


Batcat

by Winterstar



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2012-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-05 05:42:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4168071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterstar/pseuds/Winterstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Neal discover something curious. Peter has a new friend, Neal does not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Batcat

**Author's Note:**

> This is completely[](http://rabidchild.livejournal.com/profile)[rabidchild](http://rabidchild.livejournal.com/) idea and fault. Her kittehs are consuming the fandom.

 

[ ](http://dmk0064.livejournal.com/pics/catalog/1502/6830)

"Now, that's weird."

"Have to admit, you don't see something like that every day."

"Maybe Mozzie might know something about it."

Neal does a double take then looks back at the focus of everyone's attention as it circles near the ceiling of the warehouse. "Really, Peter, you're using Mozzie as a resource now?"

Peter points to the object doing loops around the confiscated loot. "You're telling me Mozzie wouldn't have something to say about that."

Neal shrugged. "Probably, and it would have to do with government secrets, mad scientists, maybe even alien abduction. Do you really want to go there?"

Huffing, Peter concedes, "You're right."

"Of course I am," Neal says and winks at him. "How do you think we get it do-."

The thing flies right over to them and lands Peter's shoulder. It hisses at Neal with its ears plastered against its little black head. It has blue eyes, just like Neal. It flaps its little black wings which are delicate and remind Neal of a bat.

Peter hits at it but it snuggles up against his ear and announces. “I is Batcat, I’s fight the crimes. I’s no like crimiminals.”

It hisses at Neal again.

“Hey, I’m reformed.”

It curses under its breath and says again, “I is Batcat.”

“Well, at least we know what it is now,” Neal says but Peter isn’t buying it. Not by a long shot.

“You’re a cat. A cat with wings and you fight crime. What were you doing in a refuge for the bad guys.”

“Alas, Batcat made by crimiminal elementals.”

“I’m not sure it’s speaking correctly,” Diana says as she walks up to them and studies the little body perched on Peter’s shoulder.

“Really? You’re worried about its grammar. It is a flying cat and it is speaking,” Peter points out.

“Well, if we want to find out about it, then we have to understand what it’s saying,” Neal says and pulls out a small bag of peanut M&Ms. When Peter scowls at him, Neal puts up his one hand and says, “Hey, I did not steal them. I got them on Halloween.”

“What? Trick or treating?” Diana scoffs.

Raising an eyebrow, Neal says, “Maybe.”

“Isn’t that for kids, Caffrey?”

“Always young at heart,” Neal says and pops a green M&M in his mouth and whispers, “Green.”

The Batcat hisses at him again.

*oOo*  
“Does it have to be in the office with us?” Neal says as the Batcat gingerly makes its way around Peter’s desk. Its little black tail is raised high in the air and its wings are folded gently against its sleek black fur.

“Batcat hears you,” it says and spits at Neal.

“That is not polite,” Neal says and pulls out a bagel from the bag he’s holding. “Did you notice how it likes to speak in the third person? That’s a sign of mental issues.”

Peter sighs. “And nothing else about this situation is a sign of mental issues.”

Neal munches on the bagel which is egg and slathered in cream cheese. “I’m just saying.” His mouth is full so it comes out more like _m jat sa’in_.

“Go eat somewhere else,” Peter says and waves him away.

“Crimiminals has worms.”

“I do not,” Neal says.

“Crimiminals always deny truthulls.”

“What the hell is a truthull? And it is Criminal. Not crimiminals.”

Peter interrupts Neal’s tirade. “You do realize you’re fighting with a cat.”

“Batcat. I fights de crimiminals.” It spits at Neal again.

*oOo*  
“No.”

“Yes, please.”

“Why didn’t you send it to the Cave? It is evidence in a case,” Neal says as he finishes up the last of his apple slices with peanut butter.

“It is not something to be stored. It is a living thing.” Peter’s voice comes over the phone a little desperate.

“Maybe,” Neal murmurs.

“Maybe, you’ll do it?”

“No, maybe it is a living thing.” He crunches into the last apple slice.

“Are you eating again?”

“Is that any of your business?”

A third voice comes on the phone. “Batcat eat livers from de crimiminals.”

“Oh that’s nice and you want me to pet sit that thing while you and Elizabeth go out to the theater and dinner,” Neal says into the phone. “Absolutely not.”

“Batcat eat liver of wimpy dog.”

“What?” Neal says and hears the echo of Peter in his exclamation.

“Please, Neal, for El. What is the worse that could possibly happen?”

Neal rolls his eyes and licks the spoon with the peanut butter. “Oh you have no idea.”

*oOo*  
Batcat stares at him from across the sofa. The staring contest has been going on for fifteen minutes. Satchmo escaped upstairs but Neal is stuck with the thing glaring at him. He cannot reach the remote because its little ass is on it.

“Batcat watches crimiminals. Batcat interrogates crimiminals.”

Neal folds his arms but balances the bowl of popcorn on his lap. “Give it your best shot.”

Batcat prances back and forth with its wings slightly distended from its body. Neal thinks it might be trying to look more intimidating. It just looks ridiculous.

“Batcat is wily.”

“Wily?” Neal shakes his head and forgets about the movie. He starts to eat the popcorn. This is infinitely more entertaining.

“Batcat smells deceit on you.”

“Maybe it’s because I haven’t showered.” Neal tosses a popcorn at its little ass. It jumps and falls off the couch.

“Batcat eat liver once you crimiminals done with corn of popping.”

“Popcorn,” Neal says and under his breath he murmurs, “Idiot.”

It howls then scratches at Neal’s leg. The only thing that saves him is his jeans. “Shit, stop that.”

It licks its paws and says, “Crimiminals blood tastes good.”

“You’re sick. I’m only here for Satchmo.”

“Dog crimiminal, too. Batcat knows all.”

“Whatever.” The remote is free and he snatches it and aims it at the television. He flicks through the channels until he lands on an old Cary Grant film. “Perfect.”

“Not.”

“Shut up.”

It leaps into Neal’s lap and upsets the popcorn bowl. It flaps its little wings and stares Neal right in the face. It says in its deepest voice. “I’s knows who your fathers is.”

“Big deal, so do I.” Neal sweeps him off his lap and curses the mess of popcorn on the floor. He gets up to clean in when he hears a distinct crash from outside. “What the-?”

“Batcat to rescue of dirty crimiminal.”

Neal frowns at it and then goes to the window. Mozzie’s gift is still out there, but Neal sees a shadow next to the round stone.

“Let Batcat out.” The thing starts banging against the door.

“Stop it,” Neal says and flaps it away.

It digs its claws into Neal’s hand and he falls back. The Batcat finagles the doorknob, opens it, and then flies toward the shadows.

Neal considers leaving it to its own devices.

He waits.

There’s a yelp and a cry.

He races after Batcat. He confronts a circle of teenagers who want to steal the stone. Neal yells at them and tells them to get off the property. They’re drunk and stupid. One of them swings a bat at Neal and Batcat flies interference. It squawks when the bat glances off Neal and hits it to the ground.

Just at the kid decides to grab stunned Batcat, Satchmo rushes out the door, growling and barking. The group of teenagers scrambles away as the dog bares its teeth at them.

Once they disappear into the shadowed alley way, Neal gathers up Batcat in his arms, pets Satchmo, and fumbles his way into the kitchen.

*oOo*  
“Damn it, what the hell happened to you?”

“Teenagers.”

“Is it broken?”

Neal rubs his nose and says, “I don’t think so, they just barely hit me.”

“Did you call the police?”

“Satchmo scared them off,” Neal says and strokes the underbelly of Batcat.

“Seems you made a friend.”

“Not crimiminals,” Batcat says and rights himself. He wobbles a bit and leaps off of Neal’s lap to cuddle next to Satchmo.

“Wow,” Peter says.

“Yeah,” Neal says and stands up. “I’m going. I’m hungry.”

“Thanks,” Peter says as he walks him to the door.

“Next time you and Elizabeth need a pet sitter call Mozzie.”

“Batcat only wants hero.” It flies over to Neal and rubs up against his bruised cheek. Neal scratches it and opens the door. “Batcat gots to go. Batcat signal.”

“There’s no such thing.”

It scoffs at him and flies into the night. Peter makes a little gasping noise but doesn’t stop it.

“Think we’ll see it again?” Peter asks.

“I’m trying to pretend I never saw it in the first place.”

“El’s gonna make some coffee and we have cookies.”

“Cookies?”

“Homemade, come back in,” Peter says. Neal closes the door but not before Peter glimpses a tiny silhouette of a flying cat projected in the skies above Brooklyn. He shakes his head and pretends the last week did not happen.

THE END. I take no credit for the bat cat pic. It has been running all over the Internet for years.  



End file.
